LOTR
by i.took.to.the.sky
Summary: What if the story of Lord of the Rings never existed, because it's happening right now.
1. Chapter 1

She was cornered. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nobody to save her, and it was closing in…the great lidless eye, it burned with an endless fire. Before it rode nine figures, their motorcycles headlights glowing red in the blackness, they stopped less than a foot from her and reached their shadowy fingers towards her.

"GIVE IT TO ME!"

"NO!"

Frondflower Baggins bolted upright at her desk, her long curly black hair falling around her face like a curtain. She took huge gulps of air, glancing around in a panic, every member of her Speech class stared back at her.

"Are you alright back there Miss Baggins?" The turkey-necked teacher asked, scrunching up his face into a frown so his neck fat almost touched his nose. Frondflower nodded, unsure of how to explain herself. The teacher, Mr. Granger, waddled down the aisle to stand by her desk. His frown deepened and he crossed his arms in a disapproving stance.

"Miss Baggins," Mr. Granger, said, "Have you not been warned about sleeping in my class?"

"Yes, Sir," Frondflower said.

"Then you know the consequences of your actions, do you not?"

Frondflower sighed, "yes, Sir." She stood up pulling on her jacket and slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"Catch you later Frodo," Frondflower's best friend Samantha Gamgee whispered, as Frondflower passed her desk.

"Text me," Frodo whispered back. She slipped out of the classroom, down the hallway, out the doors of the community college and into the fresh spring air. She glanced up at the bright blue sky and turned her feet towards home.

Frodo lived with her Uncle Bill in a trailer park in the middle of a flower filled valley that the locals called The Shire. It was a developing community where they grew their own produce and brewed their own Ale. They grew some rather fine weed and made a little money that way, but mostly the people of the Shire kept to themselves as they were thought to be a rather strange bunch by the rest of the world.

Uncle Bill was possibly the strangest one of the lot. He had had traveled the globe as a young man and seen all sorts of impossible sights. On Saturday nights the children of the trailer park would gather in Frodo's front lawn and listen to the stories that Uncle Bill would tell, of him meeting mountain trolls and battling the goblin armies that where after the dwarves gold. Frodo knew all the things he said could have never happened, trolls indeed…but Uncle Bill always spoke with such certainty sometimes… well sometimes Frodo couldn't help but believe him.

Frodo stomped up the porch steps and slammed open the door," Uncle Bill!" she shouted, "I'm home!"

"I'm in the study!" Uncle Bill yelled back. Frodo followed the sound of his voice to the room in the farthest corner of their trailer.

Uncle Bill sat hunched over his desk, scribbling away madly in a red leather bound book. It was his never ending project, his collection of tales from all the adventures he had gone through before his brother and sister-in-law had died and left Frodo in his care. He kept assuring his niece that it was almost finished, but then he would remember some part he had forgotten and have to start all over again.

"Fall asleep in class again?" Uncle Bill asked, as Frodo came to stand behind him. He dipped his old fashioned writing quill into a jar of ink and began to carefully form a new sentence. Uncle Bill positively refused to use a computer; he said that all that new-fangled technology took the joy out of writing. Frodo had given up arguing about it with him and just let the old man have his way.

Yes," Frodo sighed in answer to his question. She dropped her backpack to the floor and sank into the swivel chair next to her Uncle.

"Are you sure you even want to be in school my girl?" Bill asked, glancing at her, "After all it's not the ONLY thing a talented young lady like you can do with her life."

"I don't know what I want Uncle," Frodo sighed, staring at the ceiling as she swung the swivel chair in a circle. "I have no idea what I'm looking for."

Her uncle laughed and patted her shoulder, "Don't worry my girl," Bill said, smiling, "I have every faith that you will find it." Frodo smiled back at the old man and stood up.

"How's the book coming today uncle?" she asked.

"Oh as well as can be expected on such an important day," her uncle said, turning his attention back to his project.

"If you mean your birthday you know perfectly well that I did not forget." Frodo laughed, "I woke up before ten to sing to you and everything."

"Oh no that's not it," Bill said, "though it is not every day that a man turns one hundred and eleven."

Frodo shook her head," there is no way you are a day past sixty-five Bill," she informed him, before turning to go.

"I am too one hundred and eleven," her uncle called after her, "make sure to be home for my birthday party tonight. It is going to be especially magnificent!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world uncle," Frodo told him, and still shaking her head she headed out the door.

…

Bill Baggins dotted an I crossed a few t's and smiling capped his quill. He was quite satisfied with how this manuscript was turning out, after a good forty years he could finally see himself completing this project. Instinctively his hand wormed its way into his jacket pocket feeling for the object that he always kept there. His fingers met nothing…it was gone.

Bill began to breathe hard and stood up in a panic. He dug his hands into the stack of papers on his desk, opened drawers, lifted up his coffee mug. STILL NOTHING! It had to be somewhere! He took the jacket he had been wearing earlier off its hook and shook it, when nothing fell out he began to frantically pat himself down…THERE! It was in his other jacket pocket. The old man let out the breath he had been holding and kissed his precious. Everything was alright now.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Bill jumped about ten feet in the air and nearly throwing his precious into the ceiling fan in the process. "I'm…I'm not taking visitors today!" he shouted once he had found his voice.

"Bill Baggins you will open this door!" came the voice of one of his obscure cousins, "You promised you would talk to me about your will!"

"I'm not dead yet Lobetia!" Bill shouted back.

"But we need to decide these things NOW while you have a say," Lobetia began, "after all you're getting up in years and-

Bill shut his study door and turned his stereo on as loud as it would go. He flopped back into his chair and closed his eyes.

"BAM! BAM! BAM!"

Bill was determined to ignore the door. So as the hammering got louder he turned his stereo off, put in his earplugs and sitting cross legged on the floor began to hum to himself.

"Huuuuum," Bill said, "huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum."

"What on earth are you doing Mr. Baggins?" a craggy voice asked.

Bill screamed like a little girl and leaped to his feet. Standing before him was an even older man than himself dressed in what appeared to be a long gray bathrobe and holding a carved wooden staff.

"What on earth did you do that for?" Bill shouted, "I'm one hundred and eleven today Grandpa. My heart cannot take this much excitement!"

"And it is good to see you as well Bill Baggins," Grandpa laughed, leaning down from his great height to hug his old friend.

"I would say come in," Bill grumbled, "but seeing as you're already inside, would you like some tea."

"Oh yes thank you!" Grandpa grinned.

Bill lead the way to the kitchen pausing before the front door and cautiously tiptoeing past it. When Grandpa raised an eyebrow he said, "Bloody relatives keep banging on the door. They never give me a moment's peace."

"You live in town now my dear Bill," Grandpa said, "If you want peace you're going to have to move back to the mountains." Bill got down the teapot with a smile and Grandpa nodded knowingly, "you had planned on it hadn't you. That's what the big party is for."

"Let's just say," Bill said filling the teapot with water, "that tonight is going to be a night to remember."


	2. A Night to Remember

Lively music blared from several pickups sound systems. Tables creaked under the weight of the food upon them. Homebrewed ale flowed like water from the numerous barrels stacked three deep around the yard, and fireworks rained down upon the astonished onlookers in the form of fairies and stars.

It seemed as if the entire population of The Shire was packed into Bill Baggins front yard, (indeed almost every single person in the community had received an invitation and those who had not had just come anyways.) Hundreds of people where dancing on the patio, eating at the tables, and talking with old friends.

Frodo watched laughing as Sam tried repeatedly to get up the nerve to ask her long time crush Rob Cotton to dance. Every time she was about to walk up to the group of people he was talking to she would lose her nerve and veer off to one of the Ale kegs. She was already three glasses of Ale in and starting to get a bit wobbly around the legs by the time Frodo decided to intervene.

"Come on Sam," she said, plopping down next to her intoxicated best friend, "It's not that hard, just go up to him and ask him to dance."

Sam glanced longingly at the tall blonde Rob and sighed, "I think I'll just have another Ale." She said, attempting to get up and head to the Ale keg again.

Frodo grabbed her arm, "Oh No, you don't" she said, standing up and dragging her towards Rob. She gave her a hard shove in his direction, "Go on, ask him." The force of the push sent Sam crashing into Rob and both of them stumbling onto the dance floor.

Rob was smiling, as he spit one of Sam's sandy brown curls from his mouth, "Why hello Samantha," he laughed, "you having a good time."

Sam turned a dark umber, "Y-yesyeahiam," she spat out all in a rush. A slow song came on and the two stared at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds then Rob laughed again.

"Do you want to dance?"

Sam squeaked and nodded so hard it looked like her head was about to fall off. Rob smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close. Frodo, who had watched the whole ordeal leaned against a picnic table and sighed happily.

"AWWW!" said a familiar voice at her side, "They are so cute." Frodo turned to see her cousin, Marigold,( whom everyone just called Mari,) and her ever constant shadow of a little sister Pipsqueak, (known by all as Pip or Pippin,) staring out at where Sam and Rob were dancing.

"Aren't they though," Frodo agreed, "I so hope they get married."

"So how are you Frodo?" Mari asked, taking a bite out of the apple she was holding and then passing the rest to Pippin, who began munching on it happily, "I haven't seen you in a while."

Frodo shrugged, "Same old, same old," She sighed, "what about you two? How's working at Orange Julius going?"

Pippin inhaled sharply and lodged a piece of apple in her windpipe, Mari smacked her on the back and the apple piece went flying into a nearby man's drink. He looked around confusedly for the source of the plopping sound.

Mari turned back to Frodo with a huge smile on her face, "We got fired." She said. Pippin giggled.

"Why…?" Frodo prompted.

"I put a fake rat tail in some bitches drink," Pippin said, her green eyes shining with pride.

"And I set off a dung bomb under the Managers chair." Mari said.

"Wow," Frodo said, "So you've officially been fired from every store in the mall?"

"A dream come true," Pippin sighed happily.

"It is indeed a great accomplishment," Mari agreed, she stood, straightening her dress and hair. 'Speaking of which we better get going Pip, we have to pull off our next great prank before the old people go back to the nursing home. I want to make at least one person poop their pants tonight." She punched Frodo in the arm and then turned and disappeared into the crowd. Pippin jumped off the table and after giving Frodo a quick hug scampered after her older sister.

Frodo shook her head at the disappearing backs of her two cousins. Their parents had died when Mari was 18 leaving her to bring up the then 12 year old Pipsqueak. Now 3 years later they were the bane of the communities' existence, a fact they were quite proud of. In fact the deeper trouble they got into the happier they seemed to be. Frodo and Uncle Bill had had to bail them out of jail on several occasions.

"FRONDFLOWER!" A drunken obscurely related man roused Frodo from her thoughts with a hearty slap on the back, "HOW ARE YOU DOING OLD BEAN?"

"I'm good Cousin Morty thanks for asking," Frodo said, inching away from his putrid reek, "hope you have a good time." She quickly put several people between her and Morty who continued to talk to a slab of cheesecake convinced it was her.

"Uncle," Frodo said, reaching the end of the driveway where Uncle Bill stood greeting the last few stragglers, "Why on earth did you invite Cousin Morty? Remember the Christmas party?"

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper my dear," Uncle Bill said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and leading her back up the driveway, "The man doesn't get invited to many parties, besides there are no trees for him to burn down this time.

"BILL BAGGINS!" The shout came from behind them.

Bill and Frodo whirled around and saw to their horror that Cousin Lobelia was advancing up the driveway towards them.

"You invited the Sackville-Bagginess!" Frodo asked, of her Uncle who was sprinting back towards the house. She ran to catch up with him.

"Why on God's green earth would I do that?" Bill shouted over his shoulder, "They just showed up, just like they always do!" The Sackville-Bagginess were two of their obscure cousins that kept trying to lay claim to all of Bill's worldly possessions. Needless to say they had not been invited to any parties since Frodo could remember, however they seemed to just…show up at every single event held at Bill and Frodo's trailer nonetheless.

Niece and Uncle ducked under the nearest picnic table and held their breath as Lobelia and Felix, her grump of a husband thundered past calling for them. Bill let out his breath in a rush, Frodo laughed and clambered out of their hiding place, holding out a hand to help her Uncle up.

The old man leaned on her arm after she lifted him to his feet and sighed, "Thank you my dear, you're a good girl."

"I'm not that good Uncle," Frodo said with a smile.

"Yes, you are," Bill insisted, "And I am very proud of you. You grew up that way without any help from me."

"Uncle," Frodo started.

"I love you Frondflower," Bill said, cutting her off by wrapping her in a hug, "and you're going to be just fine." He released her and smiled then grabbing a beer from someone standing nearby walked away, leaving Frodo standing in the middle of a crowd utterly confused. She was going to be fine…? What did he mean by that?

…

The party went on and on, growing more crowded and wild by the minute. Pippin and Mari released their next great prank, which turned out to be almost exploding one of the pickup trucks with a whole bunch of stolen fireworks. Mari was smiling as the police lead her away, turns out one of the grandma's from the nursing home had pooped her pants.

Sam and Rob danced a couple more songs together and then disappeared for a long while. When they came back Sam was smiling from ear to ear and wouldn't say what they had been up to. Frodo was still trying to wheedle it out of her when Bill was called up for his speech.

The old man clambered to the top of his trailer to rousing cries of "SPEECH! SPEECH!" The drunken crowd gathered round, staring up at him with patient smiles on their faces.

"Welcome all," Bill began, "Boffets, and Bulgers," a cheer went up from the Boffets and the Bulgers, "Tooks and Brandybucks," another cheer from the afore mentioned, "Scrubbs," cheer, "Chubbs," cheer, "Grayscorals," cheer, "and Proudfoot's,"

"PROUDFEET!" shouted old Herbert Proudfoot, who had his large and hairy feet propped up on a picnic table. Laughter greeted this remark, Bill smiled patiently and waited for the giggles to stop before continuing.

"Today is my one hundredth and eleventh birthday!" He shouted, once it had quieted.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" the crowd shouted back even though they knew there was no way this man was one hundred and eleven.

"At last," Bill said, "eleventy-one years is too short of time to live among you wonderful folks." An awww went through the crowd, "I know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

This remark was greeted by utter silence you could almost hear the crickets chirping in the background. Bill smiled, now he had their attention.

"I-I have things to do," he mumbled, taking something out of his pocket and holding it behind his back. His eyes grew wide as he murmured something too soft for anyone else to hear, then he seemed to remember where he was and said loudly, "I REGRET TO ANNOUCE THAT THIS IS THE END. I am going now, I wish you all a very fond farewell," His eyes found Frodo's and he smiled softly, "Goodbye."

And with that Bill Baggins completely disappeared.

Gasps of horror rose up from the crowd. Had that really just happened? Bill Baggins had just disappeared! Frodo was instantly swamped with questions from terrified guests. Was her Uncle a Wizard? Did he practice Dark Magic? How long had Frodo known he could turn invisible like that? Frodo just shook her head in silent shock as confused as everybody else was.

Slowly the yard emptied of guests. No one seemed to want to stick around after the birthday boy disappeared into thin air. Soon it was only Frodo left sitting amidst all the empty ale kegs watching the flies buzz around someone's half eaten plate of potato salad.

...

"You should have told her," Grandpa said, glaring down at Bill from his immense height, "The poor girl has a right to know."

"Don't worry I've left her a letter," Bill said, shoving an old faded map into the backpack he was in the process of packing. "It explains everything."

"Everything?" Grandpa asked, as Bill selected a bright red apple and wrapped it up in one of his shirts.

"Everything," Bill repeated, "And I've left her the house, that should piss Lobelia off plenty." He chuckled to himself.

"What about the Ring?" Grandpa asked, sitting down on a footstool. Bill's back stiffened.

"Oh, you know," he said trying to keep his voice light and casual, "I thought maybe I'd just…keep it with me, for protection and, well it's very useful in a pinch you must admit Grandpa…" he trailed off under the unwavering stare of his old friend.

Why did Grandpa want him to give up the ring so badly anyhow. It was Bill's after all, he could keep it if he wanted to! "Why shouldn't I keep it!" Bill demanded with renewed vigor.

"I think you have had it quite long enough!" Grandpa insisted, standing up and straitening himself to his full 7 feet tall, "It's time to let it go!"

Bill could feel a red hot rage coming over him, he was not going to give up his precious! HE WOULD NEVER GIVE IT UP! "YOU WANT IT FOR YOURSELF DON'T YOU!" he shouted, curling his hands into two fists.

"BILL BAGGINS!" thundered Grandpa, seeming to grow even taller, "DO NOT TAKE ME FOR SOME CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS! I AM NOT TRYING TO ROB YOU!" Bill shrank against the wall in horror as dark clouds gathered over Grandpa's head. But as suddenly as this phenomenon had started it stopped, Grandpa seemed to deflate and he leaned heavily on his stick.

"I'm trying to help you," he said. Bill still shaking, sat down hard in a nearby chair, Grandpa sighed and rested a hand on his friends curly head.

"We've been friends a long time Bill," Grandpa said, "And have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?"

"No," Bill shuddered, staring at the ring he still held.

"Let it go," Grandpa whispered. Bill nodded but continued to sit, staring at the small circle of gold in his hand until suddenly as if he couldn't stand it any longer he leaped up and threw the ring to the floor. Then grabbing his backpack rushed out the trailers back door. He stood in the yard gazing at the stars and breathing hard. It was done.

Grandpa followed more slowly.

"I've thought of an ending for my book," Bill said suddenly, whirling around.

"And what might that be," Grandpa asked.

"And he lived happily ever after," Bill said, shrugging into his backpack, "Till the end of his days."

Grandpa smiled and opened his mouth to say something when the trailers front door slammed and both men could hear Frodo calling for Bill. Bill gave Grandpa one last smile and then slipped away into the darkness just as Frodo came running into the backyard.

"He's gone?" She asked staring out into the night, Grandpa nodded.

"Goodbye Uncle!" Frodo shouted, "I'll ," her voice broke and she rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, "I'll miss you," she finished in a choked whisper. Grandpa wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and steered her back into the house.

"He left this for you," he said, handing her a folded envelope, "He said it would explain everything."

"Why don't you explain everything," Frodo demanded, angrily. Yanking away from the old man, "I know you know Grandpa, you were his oldest friend, he didn't keep any secrets from you!" A tear rebelliously dripped down her nose, "he apparently kept a lot of them from me."

Grandpa sighed heavily and headed towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Frodo asked, stamping her foot.

"To make tea," Grandpa called over his shoulder, "we're going to be up for a while and I need a hot drink for a story like this." Frodo started to follow him, but her shoe clinked against something on the floor. She knelt down and picked up the golden ring and without another thought slipped it into her pocket


End file.
